


Paralyzed

by samanthavee (orphan_account)



Category: Shameless (TV), Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 17:50:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/samanthavee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey feels stuck. During and post S3, so some spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paralyzed

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics by The Used. Good song. Characters don't belong to me (except London)

  
_Paralyzed by the same old antics,  
back and forth like some walking spastics.  
How can a fist fight be romantic?_

Mickey had been walking down the street for awhile now. He hadn't been outside in a week, so it felt good to just walk. He should've probably been in school but that was a waste. He was getting a lot of nervous looks; his face was still pretty messed up. Nobody said anything though. 

He stopped in front of a storefront, staring in the window. _"Phase Five Fitness"_ was plastered across the window in bright white lettering. He couldn't see too much, but he thought he could make out the corner of a boxing ring behind the front desk, which was empty. He tested the door, and it was unlocked. He found himself walking inside before he really even registered what he was doing. It was unusually cold inside for the time of year. It smelled like old sweat, rubber, and bleach; a typical gym. The sound system was pretty good at least, some heavy metal playlist was in full swing. Mickey found himself looking at a bulletin board near the front door. There was a fight club flyer, a flyer for an upcoming 5k and 10k marathon, someone was selling a car, there was a schedule for all of the classes for this month. 

**"Get into a fight with a gun?"**

Mickey jumped, almost out of his skin, turning to face where the voice had come from, over his left shoulder. The guy was probably in his early thirties. Tall. Big. He probably spent a lot of time lifting weights, or fighting. Or both. He was actually pretty cute if Mickey was being honest with himself. What was more unnerving than Mickeys slight attraction to him was his easy smile and how totally comfortable this guy was. He was just totally relaxed in his surroundings. 

**"What makes you say that?"** Mickey's tone wasn't dripping sarcasm and hostility like it normally did; he sounded more nervous than anything. A bigger smile, and a shrug. 

**"I've been around the block a few times. I know what pistol whip looks like."** He paused, then offered his hand. 

**"I'm London. See something interesting?"** He nodded towards the bulletin board behind them. Mickey shifted uncomfortably, suddenly panicking. He needed to get the fuck out of there. 

**"Nah. Just thought I saw someone back there I knew."** He shook his head, taking a few steps backward before turning and bolting out the door as fast as humanly possible. He didn't normally panic over shit like that, what the fuck was wrong with him?


End file.
